


in our bedroom after the war

by TheSushiMonster



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 15:20:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12729144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSushiMonster/pseuds/TheSushiMonster
Summary: "When Rip opens the door to his office, he’s honestly surprised to see her sitting on his couch.“Sara?”She doesn’t look up. Instead, she slumps further into the sofa, the dim light from beyond the curtains casting shadows over her face. Her head is in her hands.She’s beautiful."Sara's upset. So she goes to Rip.





	in our bedroom after the war

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plinys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESS!! This fic isn't worthy of you or your birthday but I wanted to give you SOMETHING so here you are!!! Really you should read my last drabble bc it's probably better than this.
> 
> BUT you yelled at me months ago for never using this song as a fic title so here you go. <3

When Rip opens the door to his office, he’s honestly surprised to see her sitting on his couch.

“Sara?”

She doesn’t look up. Instead, she slumps further into the sofa, the dim light from beyond the curtains casting shadows over her face. Her head is in her hands.

She’s beautiful.

Rip closes the door behind him.

Frowning, he moves towards his desk, keeping it between them. The last time he’d seen her -  _ hard eyes, crossed arms, insults pouring from her lips _ \- is now a memory, but he keeps his arms relaxed at his side. “What’s wrong?”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Everything.”

He rolls his eyes. “Well, clearly - ”

“Why did you let me be captain?”

He hopes his surprise isn’t evident. Instead, he steps closer. “I didn’t  _ let _ you - you’re a great captain, Miss Lance - ”

“That’s bullshit.” Her tone is harsh and sharp and the jagged edges of a knife across his spine. 

Rip shakes his head. “No, it’s really not.”

The silence is suffocating, and Sara doesn’t move. She stays slumped in her seat -  _ his  _ couch, in  _ his _ office, not on the Waverider, not the one he gave her, because she  _ earned _ it - half-lit by the setting sun. Sighing, Rip wanders closer; he perches himself on the corner of his desk, on her side.

“What happened?”

When she looks up at him, he finally catches the stress - the red tinge in her eyes, the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers clench on her thighs. It’s a burden, being captain, and he  _ knows _ this. Perhaps, seeing her take to the job so well - he hoped she’d be better off.

Apparently not.

The words that spill from her lips make little sense - missions gone wrong, last minute saves, their band of misfits bickering and arguing and saving each other. When she describes Jax fixing the ship, or Zari joining the team, or Mick surprising them all - her hands cover her elbows and her hair hangs and frames her face. There’s a spark. 

Rip sits down on the coffee table, facing her, slouching and sighing and shoulders relaxed. “Did anyone die, Sara?”

She shakes her head.

“Then you are an excellent captain.”

He wonders if she catches his wariness - the exhaustion hovering on his back, the guilt warring in his gut, the broken images of the past -  _ the future _ \- whirling past his vision. Dead bodies. Blood. Screams. But Sara just blinks, the spark in her soul traveling to her eyes. 

They glitter again.

She scoots to the end of the couch, closer to him.

Rip straightens. Visions of the past and the future disappear - there’s only now, the present, Sara sitting in front of him, practically between his legs.

She smiles, mischievously.

Rip stops breathing, her lips pink and soft and  _ right there _ \- “Sara, I know you’re upset but I don’t think this is the right - ”

And she suddenly stands, kissing his hair. Rip bites his tongue, his lips, the pressure enough to draw blood. He stays staring at her stomach, at the space between her blouse and jeans, the sliver of skin - 

“When you’ve gotten bored of playing the white knight, and when you’re ready to come home,” she says, a hand traveling to his hair to stoke it, “just keep in mind that I’ve taken over your office and your room.” He doesn’t need to look up to know she grins. “And Jax doesn’t like to share.”

Rip cracks a smile without even wanting to. His chest opens a little too. “I think I’ll be good here.”

This time, she smiles with her eyes too. “Sure. But just know there’s also space in  _ our _ room - for - ” she hesitates, just barely, and shrugs. “For after.”

If she regrets saying anything, Rip can’t tell. He feels warm. “I think that’s against Bureau policy.” Sara rolls her eyes and he thinks she mutters something about  _ time cops _ as she moves towards the doorway, leaving him sitting on his coffee table. “I heard that.”

Her laugh is loud and bright and everything  _ Sara _ . His heart lurches too. “Good.”

And Sara leaves, head high, and Rip thinks she’s beautiful.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [all the days 'til you're back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737154) by [anniebibananie (alindy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alindy/pseuds/anniebibananie)




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